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"Have to see Fallon," Brennan said. "It's his town."
A big, square-faced man looked up belligerently. "I never heard of no man who
could run the town I'm in," he said. "Who is this Fallon?"
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"He's a good man," Brennan replied. "He started the town."
"All right, he started it. So where is he?"
"He'll be around."
Al Damon had come in. He still carried a few of the silver dollars. He put
one of them on the bar and said, "Fallonain'tgonna run this town forever.
We'regoin ' to have an election. Well vote us a marshal and a mayor."
Brennan ignored him, but he felt a little shock of doubt. If an election was
called, there was no question of it being called to help Fallon in any way. It
could only be called to be rid of him.
He worked swiftly and silently, talking little, and then only to reply to
questions, but he was aware that Al Damon was doing some talking, and none of
it friendly to Fallon. With the rush of business, he stayed open until ten,
and the saloon was orderly. Only the big man, whose name was Gleason, showed
any inclination to trouble.
The wagon train had started out fromFt.Leavenworth to come to theNevada
andCalifornia mines. They would rest and recuperate here for two or three
days, then go on west.
Wagon trains were few these days, for the time of the gold rush was long
past. Nowadays the wagon trains were likely to be freighters, carrying cargo
to the mines or ore from them. In this train there should be a number of men
or families who might be useful to Red Horse.
Fallon should be here. It had always been Fallon who sorted the men out, who
looked for strong, competent men with trades, men who wanted to do something
and create something. There was no one to do that now. And it was unlike
Fallon to be gone.
Teel dropped in just before closing. He was gloomy. "I don't like it, John.
There's a lot of talk around about electing a mayor and appointing a marshal.
Al Damon's doing most of the talking, but young JimBlane is, too."
"Where is Fallon?" Brennan said anxiously. "If ever, he should be here now."
Half an hour before closing time LutherSemple rode slowly into Red Horse.
From a nearby bluff he had watched the wagon train and had decided that now,
among all this crowd of strangers, he would have a good chance to take stock
of the town.
The wagon train was such a big one that attacking the town while it was there
was simply out of the question. There must be a hundred men, he thought, or
close to it, with that train. Until now, they had been trusting to the reports
of Al Damon, butSemple did not place any confidence in his reports. It was
obvious that Al did not like Fallon, and he might have underestimated him.
LuteSemple was not particularly bright, but he had an animal instinct for
danger and he had been one of those at the wagon the night Fallon rode up on
them. He had not seen him3but he had heard that voice.
Since then, Al had described Fallon so it would be hard to miss him.
LuteSemple wanted to see Fallon, to estimate the danger involved; for Lute had
survived a good deal longer than many of his comrades because he had no desire
to make a reputation, nor any urge to face a dangerous man in any kind of a
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gun battle.
Semplerode into Red Horse unnoticed in the confusion following the arrival of
the wagon train, almost half of which was made up of freight wagons. The
teamsters were well-armed and competent-looking men. There were about thirty
of them, tough men and veterans of many an Indian fight.
Sempletied his horse a few doors down from the Yankee Saloon, then after a
careful look around, he entered the saloon and ordered a drink.
The first person he recognized was John Brennan himself, and he remembered
him from bothAbilene and Corinne. Taking his drink, LuteSemple found his way
to a table in the corner and sat down.
Had Brennan recognized him? He thought not. In any event, Brennan would have
no reason to suspect him of anything, for Brennan had never, so far asSemple
was aware, known anything about him.
A lot of money was being spent.Semple could see the teamsters crowding to the
bar, and the whiskey they bought was surprisingly good. Fallon did not seem to
be anywhere around, and that worried him. If he was not here, where was he?
Semplewas sitting at the table when Joshua Teel entered. He had never seen
Teel before, but he recognized the type. Oddly enough, Teel had been born in a
log cabin not three-quarters of a mile fromSemple's home.
After he finished his whiskey,Semple got up and left quietly. John
Brennan,recorking a bottle, turned his eyes to watch him go. LutherSemple had
not counted on Brennan's good memory, or his interest in his customers.
"Teel," Brennan said, leaning on the bar, "you ever hear of LutherSemple ?"
"Semple? There were someSemples back home. The ones I knew of were a no-good
outfit ... though probably were others who were good folks.... Why?"
"LuteSemple just walked out of here, and I'd make a small bet he's with
Bellows. A few years back there were a lot of murders over on the
Republican buffalo-skinners murdered in camp ... shot in the back. The camps
were robbed, and at first it was laid to Indians, but then it was figured to
be a well-organized gang.
"Semplewas around about that time, and a man he traveled with was caught with
a rifle stolen off a murdered man.Semple disappeared dropped clean out of
sight. Later, he was around Corinne. Back in those days it was a booming town
on theLake . If you see him around, keep an eye on him."
Joshua Teel left by the back door and cut around between the buildings. He
stood in the shadows and surveyed the street with care. He sawSemple almost at
once, a tall, slightly stooped man with drooping mustaches, a man who stood
alone on the street, or bent to peer into the windows of the closed shops.
Stepping out from the buildings, Teel loafed along in the shadows. He noted
the horse tied at the hitch rail, a tall, clean-limbed bay with a rifle in the
scabbard.
It was after midnight whenSemple mounted up and rode out of town. Listening,
Teel heard no drum of hoofs on the bridge.Semple had gone down on the flat,
then. Teel returned to his own place and turned in.
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